Battlestar Highschoolica
by Lord Drash
Summary: What if the characters of BSG went through all the same situations from the show, in a high school? Worst, high school, ever.


**Battlestar Highschoolica**

**Chapter One: The Establishment of the Plot**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Battlestar Galactica or any of the actors or characters or anything else involved in the production of the show, because I am not Ronald D. Moore and you cannot own people, as that would be immoral. So, I am not making any money off of this and therefore stuff. _

Principal Williamber Adama stepped through the doors of his high school, the aptly named Battlestar Highschoolica, for what he believed to be the last time. Now, it is important to note that the name Battlestar Highschoolica is apt, not because the high school is a Battlestar, but because it is a high school. He believed it to be the last time, because it was being decommissioned as a high school and the government was turning it into a museum, because that is a thing that commonly happens to high schools.

He strode around the halls that were low and curved, stepping over the raised flooring between doorways as it was clear the high school had been designed like some kind of vessel made to save space. Like a submarine. Or a Battlestar. Actually it's not that surprising this high school is being decommissioned, that's a truly awful design for an educational facility. Principal Adama continued his striding, running his hands over the walls, lockers, water fountains and armories with a nostalgic air, more commonly known as an air of nostalgia.

Several people nodded to him, acknowledging his principal status, although a few gleefully looked forward to moving on with their lives: To better positions for the faculty and superior, less absurdly designed schools for the students. One of these gleeful people was Felixander Gaeta, who was working as a student-teacher to pay for college. With the decommissioning of Battlestar Highschoolica, college at Collegica, the college planet, would be a thing he could go to.

"Principal! Everything is ready to go for our decommissioning ceremony!" Gaeta said, in a lucky way.

"That is good. If everything was not ready for our decommissioning ceremony then we would be unable to decommission and I would have to postpone everything," Adama said, weighed down by the heavy burden of the possible decision he might have to make eventually.

Adama and Gaeta continued on their way to the school's command room, a room filled with screens depicting every other room and area on campus. Also it had a coffee maker and was awesome. Waiting in the command room was Vice-Principal Saulomite Tigh. He was bald and white-haired and clutched a strong-smelling flask of coffee in both hands. He was dual-wielding coffee flasks.

"What's on the agenda today, Bill?" Tigh asked.

"We're decommissioning the old girl. Because she is old," Adama said, looking woefully through the viewscreens, at the front of the campus, where flanked by gun turrets, a sign proudly bore the words "**Battlestar Highschoolica"**.

Tigh looked at Adama for a while, who was sighing in that awesome way that he can sigh, before turning to Gaeta.

"He might be awhile, and I have a lot of…coffee to drink. Let's cut to another scene."

#

"Okay class, what did we learn today?" English teacher Lauranne Roslin asked her group of students.

"Always capitalize the first letter in a sentence!" her class of high school students chirruped in the way that is appropriate for grade-school and younger students to speak, but is kind of creepy in older people.

"Have a good time not going to this school, Battlestar Highschoolica, where I am teaching, after it gets decommissioned, which is totally happening soon!" Roslin said, happily waving her students out of the classroom.

As Roslin watched her beloved students leave for what she believed would be the last time, a dark-haired, intimidating man stepped into the classroom and leaned arrogantly against the doorframe.

"You sicken me Roslin," the man said, in as polite a tone as it is possible to say that to someone.

"Thomasia Zarek. What brings you here?" Roslin said, flipping her red hair over her shoulder.

"Yo no te gusta!" Zarek said, smirking wickedly at Roslin.

"Really? You're doing this now?"

"You don't know what I said did you? And you call yourself a teacher," Zarek said. "I can speak both English and Spanish fluently, you can only speak English. There is no way you can be a better English teacher than I could be, since I can explain the language in how it looks to other languages!"

"Zarek. The school is getting decommissioned and we're both going to work at different schools. Who cares?" Roslin asked, flipping her red hair over her other shoulder.

"El lapiz es muy delicioso!" At that, Zarek spun around and leapt out of the room, confident that he won that little skirmish.

#

In the hallways, a group of students were discussing the merits and flaws with the school sports team.

"And that's the last of that I want to hear!" Karaler "Schoolbuck" Thrace said, knocking out a student who was mentioning the flaws with a precisely aimed brick.

"Kara, you can't do that," Leeland "Sun God" Adama said, gesturing to her uniform. "As the official members of the football team, we have a responsibility to not give students concussions. Especially because the school is being decommissioned!"

Kara just harrumphed and bashed a student into a wall with her shoulder pads.

#

"Wow Sharontha, you sure are attractive," Galeney Tyrol said as he taught the class how to fix vehicles.

"Professor, not in front of the kids!" Sharontha said, blushing furiously.

"I love it when you call me 'Professor'," Tyrol said, leering lasciviously at her.

"Oh dear!" Sharontha giggled as Tyrol leapt over his well-made desk and stomped towards her.

"Sir? Do you want us to just keep fixing these space vehicles?" a random student asked.

"Yes random student. You do that, and I'll do this!" Tyrol said, doing something with his hand.

"Ow," Sharontha said. "Don't do that again."

"Ha ha! Sorry." Tyrol said. "Wow, just think. If you were a robot, I could make all kinds of hilarious engineering innuendo puns about you. Like: 'Let's lube you up,' and 'You have mechanical precision!'"

"I don't get it," Sharontha said.

"Because you're a wo-not a robot! HA HA HA!"

#

"So you teach science here?" the tall blonde nameless girl said, who is not remotely suspicious.

"And math and fourteen of the fifteen computer classes," the short, long-haired man said.

"Who teaches the last one?"

"My student-teacher. I let him do it, as I, Gaiusmer Baltar have far too much science to do."

"Well, I would certainly love to get an idea of what kind of classes you teach if I'm transferring here," the girl said, grinning at Baltar.

"Let me show you my specialties…Biology and Chemistry."

#

Adama stopped sighing suddenly when a loud noise dinged from one of the many computer moniters ringing the command room.

"What was that?"

The person operating the monitor, who was extremely generic looking, looked up, astonished. "Sir, you won't believe this."

"Don't tell him what he can and can't believe!" Tigh roared, while slurping down what was totally coffee.

"Let me see here," Gaeta said, striding over to the monitor. "Now it says…oh dear gods."

"What is it?" Adama asked, gripping his principal chair tightly.

"The world…it's under attack. By Cylons."

Adama straightened sharply at that. "At last, what we've all been training for!"

"Sir?" One of the other generic looking monitor-people asked.

"Gentlemen, let's get ready for war."

Adama stared into the distance, eyes squinted and face clenched in a way that demanded awesome and action. It would have been a great line and visual to end this chapter on, but Gaeta interrupted.

"Sir, we're a high school. We don't fight and we don't participate in wars; we educate! You can't expect us to-"

"Excellent point Gaeta," Adama said, nodding sharply at the man. "Gentleman, let's get ready to educate. With guns."


End file.
